The High Cost of a Commute.

Well, my commute costs me roughly $78 a week in gas and 2 1/2 to 3 hours a day of my time. It's unpredictable-- sometimes an hour. Sometimes an hour and a half. Which is a lot of life and a lot of money. Which is so bizarre when work is just 10 minutes away from where I used to live. Which would also be only about $20 a week in gas. But a lot more in rent. So what can you do?

That all being said, the commute and gas doesn't change the fact that I'm very thankful for my job. Very, very thankful. I'm still getting used to the fact I might just be on track. And I'm trying to keep my eye on the prize. Trying not to let the commute get to me or my general lack of money or where I used to be and that I'm turning 39 in a few weeks and not in a place to date or have a social life when I want more than anything to get to a place that seems very far away: husband and kids and a life. And just trying to remember that everything can change in a minute. For the good as well as the bad. And that I can control some of it. But not all of it.

I'm much more comfortable at work now than I was before I started. I was so beaten up before that. Frankly, I was scared. It was hard to believe in my worth-- that anyone could see it-- see my abilities. And I was scared to believe this job could work out for me because I'd been disappointed so many times over the last few years. By people, places and jobs. I half-expected it all to fall apart every day that I walked into the office. But I'm beginning to get me back. Feel creative. Feel confident. And be fine with my position and place. And know that it can lead somewhere. Somewhere better. Where I want to be. Tomorrow night, I'm even going out to dinner with a friend. It's a girl, so no, it's not a date.

My sister recently has been going through a similar work thing that I just went through with her husband. About things stagnating in his industry and him needing to make a change. But they have kids and a house and he is older than me even (are there people older than me?)-- and has a lot of responsibility and my sister doesn't understand his depression about all of those things and how it's hard sometimes to believe or change-- and that sometimes it's even worse when people around you don't understand why you don't just do it easily. My sister and I are very different. I tried to talk to her about it all. But again, we're different. She makes choices she expects others to abide by and if not too bad-- me, I do things to help facilitate other people's choices and attempt to understand where they're coming from. And codependent or not, I hope I'll keep doing that. Just not to my own detriment.

Which brings up the blog of it all. I am going to end this particular blog. It just feels time. There's no monumental reason other than I just feel like I need to move on from the story that was layed out here: giving the milk for free. While it was a jok, it was also real. So I'm going to let go of it. I may launch another blog a week after I stop this one. Who knows. But it will still be a fresh blog. A new blog. That will have a completely different starting point. I decided I'm going to stop this one on my birthday. Entry or no entry, I will be done here on March 29th. If I decide to start another one, I'll put the link here. Perhaps I'll even have a theme next time. Or not. It's really hard to say. I did like this one for oh, so many reasons. It gave me a lot of connection with people when I often felt unconnected to them, a way to release how I'm feeling without having to say everything that was happening in my life to my friends. It was something to look forward to. It witnessed the disasters. It kept track. It let me write. As much or as little as I wanted. About what I wanted. And for me, that was important. So, I'm happy with that.